The Fowlest of Them All
by Hail-The-Process
Summary: After discovering the magical world, Artemis begins teaching at Hogwarts. Harry, deciding to lay low for a while, also goes into education. Needless to say, it is bound to be a colorful year. Top it all off with a deranged pixie seeking world dominance, Albus' highly inappropriate crush on the new Transfiguration teacher, and an Orion rising, and it's bound to be... Fowl.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter was created by J.K. Rowling. Artemis Fowl was created by Eoin Colfer.**

Harry Potter was an Auror – _was_ being the key word here.

Being and Auror wasn't exactly simple work. You had to go through back-breaking training just to be considered. To be accepted required a level of discipline, endurance, and intelligence that, for the longest time, Harry was sure he was going to die before becoming an Auror. The actual work was teetering on the edge of suicide.

But he had made it. And after a few years, he'd been promoted... and promoted again, and again...

Soon Harry had been sat down in the Head Auror's office and told that, as the Head Auror was retiring, he would take his place. It was the position Harry had fantasies about, and he'd eagerly accepted.

Harry trained recruits, killed and imprisoned some of the darkest wizards and witches alive, and managed to splice in family time on top of everything.

Never once did he think that an infection sustained from gripping a fragile glass too hard would rob him of his position.

"We can fix it easily," he'd been told at St. Mungo's. "It shouldn't take any longer than a few minutes." Ginny, his dear wife, had interjected.

"Leave the scar."

"But, Missus Potter, it would only take a few moments to be rid of it entirely-"

"Harry's been in the Auror business too long. He needs downtime."

Harry had objected, proclaiming that it was his own klutziness that cut his hand. After slapping him in the face, Ginny explained that was _why_ he needed downtime. "Your 'own klutziness' could get you killed on a battlefield," she'd said. "You need a desk job."

But Harry didn't want a desk job at the Ministry – that was basically demotion – so he'd left the Auror business to take a job at Hogwarts.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had just retired. Harry remembered his fifth year, and knew he would enjoy teaching.

However, there was another new teacher at Hogwarts that particular year...

* * *

It had been a while since Harry had seen Neville. He hated to admit it, but he and his old friend had been drifting away for a while. Working at Hogwarts together would be good for their friendship.

Harry had not fully understood how mind-numbingly dull lesson planning could be. It was also stressful, considering he had so many classes to teach and so very many students. He now knew why teachers were so enthusiastic multi-House lessons. Still, Harry did what he could to keep Gryffindor and Slytherin apart. Unfortunately, he still failed to do so when McGonagall, now Headmistress, told him that he had to, as a rule.

Harry groaned tiredly and leaned back in his chair. He sat at a round table with the other teachers, who were not planning lessons but grading work. "Why isn't anyone else doing this?" asked Harry.

Neville looked up from an essay he was grading. "Once you plan your yearly curriculum once, you don't have to make another one."

"Oh."

The doors to the little 'lesson-planning-and-homeworky-grading-area' burst open and McGonagall as good as glided into the room. "I have an announcement," declared McGonagall. "Professor Dewly has passed away." There was a moment of silence. Harry wondered who Dewly was, and what he taught. He recalled Teddy Lupin whining about 'Dewly's strictness' once. "We'll have to hire another Transfiguration teacher."

"Why don't you take back the position, Minerva?" asked Neville. Harry found Neville calling McGonagall 'Minerva' to be rather disturbing.

"I have to run the school," stated McGonagall. "I'll start looking for a new Transfiguration teacher tomorrow morning. It can't wait. School starts in two weeks!" McGonagall left.

There was a moment of silence after McGonagall left. "I know I ought ta feel bad 'bout Dewly," said Hagrid, "but 'e was so strict. Anyone would be better."

* * *

Artemis laughed.

And laughed and laughed and laughed.

This was a scary thing. Artemis simply did not _laugh._ He would chuckle, or smirk – sometimes, on a good day, he'd chuckle and smile. On a really _really_ good day he'd look alive. Relatively. But this full-on laughter he was emitting was unheard of. It was alien. And it sounded alien, as Artemis' vocal chords were not accustomed to laughter.

The laughter, coupled with his white lab coat, the dimness of his laboratory, and the glow of his computer screens, caused Artemis' appearance to match that of the mad scientist in any low-budget sci-fi flick. And he knew it. He knew everything.

Soon, after his sides hurt and tears of laughter stung his eyes, Artemis' laughing died and he stood, grinning madly, staring at the screen with mismatched eyes.

It was a perfect hexagon. It was all red. So much magic, so controlled. Artemis had to study it, he _had_ to. He had to find the root of this phenomena, whether it be natural or otherwise. He had to find it, manipulate it, and use it for his project: _THE PROJECT._

He would hunt it down and use it to save the world. Anything to fulfill his destiny.

But how to do it? Hmm...

* * *

Well, it hadn't been easy – well, that was a lie. Artemis had found that manipulating weak-minded humans into showing him how to enter a hidden subculture, scientifically altering his own magic so he could blend in with the said subculture, and teaching himself everything he could about that subculture so he could infiltrate it properly to be... child's play.

The hexagonal manifestation shown on Artemis' computer monitor was a school. A school! A school for witches and wizards. _How grand._

Over the course of the last week, Artemis had been restlessly studying and observing the behavior and history of wizards. Their antics and mood swings were oddly similar to that of a sheep. He now considered himself and expert. Artemis had always picked up on things quickly. The magical world was no different.

Artemis hadn't told anyone about his discovery; not Holly, not Butler, not even his mother. He'd protected all his information about what he'd learned in the one form he knew that Foaly would never even have a chance at cracking – a physical journal.

Artemis spent a lot of time in Diagon Alley. It was a central area in magical England. Oftentimes Artemis would be in Flourish and Blotts, studying this new, odd world. But on that particular Thursday, Artemis had decided to get some new robes. He had robes of his own, but he did not think he had enough. Only two – his dress robes and his casual robes.

And that was the day the Potter's came in to buy Hogwarts robes. Robes, robes, _robes!_

Artemis recognized Harry from old newspapers clippings. The scar on his forehead was faded, but still clearly visible. Two boys, who looked quite like Harry Potter, followed him about. His sons, doubtlessly. The younger of the two looked about Artemis' age. Madam Malkin bustled over to the trio and greeted them like old friends. "Albus, James, you two go over there," she said, gesturing by Artemis.

The brothers, James and Albus, made their way over to the fitting area. "Hello," said the younger of the two. "I'm Albus Potter." Artemis was not particularly interested, despite his earlier observations.

"That must be wonderful," Artemis said, dry as a desert.

"Are you buying Hogwarts robes?" asked Albus, stepping onto a stool similar to Artemis'. "I'm starting my fifth year, so I need new robes. My old ones still fit, but Mum says I'll be hitting a growth-spurt any day now, and I'll need newer robes for when it comes. But she said that last year, and the year before. I'm short - it's just genetics, really."

"That's lovely," deadpanned Artemis, wondering if this boy ever stopped talking, as one of the witches pinned materials into place on Artemis' body with magic.

"What's wrong with you?" demanded the older of the two, James. "Too high-n-mighty to talk to some Potters?"

Artemis resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Barely two sentences and already James rubbed him the wrong way. This boy was _not_ to be trusted. "Ignore him," said Albus, jerking his head towards James. "He's a bit of a fool. He thinks he's oh-so lovely and endearing and all, but in actuality he's just a big, pompous prat with his high horse shoved so far up is ass he might as well be chewing it."

"I'd noticed."

"Good: That means your intelligent," smiled Albus. "Most people can't tell how obnoxious he is. They think James is 'awesome'." Well, at least Albus seemed slightly more tolerable than his brother. That did not mean Artemis liked him. In fact, he considered Albus a nuisance. Annoying. Artemis was not much for unnecessary conversation, let alone unnecessary conversation with a teenager who simply did not know how to end a sentence.

Albus yammered on and on, with James interjecting every now and then with biased and/or rude comments that he seemed to believe to be funny. Artemis was unamused, and tuned most of it out. He instead focused on the mature conversation Harry Potter and Madame Malkin were having.

"A ruddy shame, what happened to Dewly," Malkin was saying. "Hogwarts isn't going to find another Transfiguration teacher as fine as him, what with Minerva too busy to retake the position."

"I agree," said Harry. "I never knew Dewly – but Al's grade went from P to an E since he was hired."

"And James?"

"Still a T, but only because he works better in a less 'educational' environment. His grades stink, but James' street-smarts will make him successful."

Madame Malkin continued, "Has Minerva found a new teacher yet?"

"No," said Harry. "McGonagall's ready to hire just about anyone – school begins in a week."

Malkin and Harry's discussion drifted towards more lighthearted matters – how his wife was, how business was going, how Harry was adapting to a desk job. Internally, Artemis was grinning like the Devil on death-day. 'Just about anyone', hm? Transfiguration was an admirable art, one that Artemis himself was quite gifted at. Surly this Minerva McGonagall could look past his age and see the wonderful teacher Artemis knew he was?

_Think of it!_ Artemis thought excitedly, though his positivity did not shine outwards. _Working within Britain's main source of magical education could give me a proper foothold in this world. If the Headmistress is truly desperate, she will hire me. If she doesn't immediately, she will in a few days. School starts so soon, and no one seems too keen to take the job. Besides, Hogwarts is the source that introduced me to this subculture in the first place. It would be only respectful to study it, correct?_

Of course he was correct. When was Artemis Fowl the Second incorrect?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Artemis Fowl belongs to Eoin Colfer.**

"I would like to welcome our new Transfiguration teacher," said McGonagall, though her tone did not sound like she wanted to welcome the new teacher at all, "Professor Artemis Fowl."

The testy-grading and curriculum-forming rommy-thing stared at Artemis, clad in his elaborate yet casual robes, like an alien specimen. "Er... Hello, Artemis," Harry finally piped up, half to be respectful (more towards McGonagall than Fowl) and half because it was an excuse to stop glamorizing his curriculum. "Welcome to Hogwarts." Slowly, other teachers followed, if only to try and rid themselves of the awkward silence. They failed, for right after the welcomes ceased and the oddly youthful professor thanked them, the lapsed back into the uncomfortable silence.

"If you will excuse me," said Artemis Fowl finally, "I believe I only have another four days to map out my yearly lesson plan for seven years worth of students."

"Why not do it here?" asked Neville, before Artemis could make it out the door.

Artemis turned around and looked at Neville like he had asked who Voldemort was. "I believe that would be completely futile," said Artemis. "Now, _if I may be excused..."_ Artemis left.

There was a moment of silence.

"I feel like I mighta said somethin' a bit ago tha' dunnit seem so true now," Hagrid said doubtfully. Most of the teachers, Harry included, nodded in agreement.

* * *

The moment Albus Severus Potter had been eagerly awaiting for the past few weeks had finally arrived: Seeing his dad introduced to the school as a new teacher. James, on the other hand, was particularly upset with the whole thing. He was quite sure Harry was bound to embarrass him in one way or another.

As the sorting Sorting came to an end, and Albus made room for the freshest Slytherin, McGonagall stood and tapped her goblet to get the Great Hall's attention.

"Before we begin our feast," started McGonagall, "I would like to welcome a few new teachers to the school. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who we all know very well, Professor Harry Potter." The Great Hall applauded Harry, who smiled and thanked McGonagall for introducing him. All of the students had heard of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, et cetera, and were excited to learn from such a great man.

"And secondly," said McGonagall, with a little less enthusiasm, "Professor Artemis Fowl, who will be taking Professor Dewly's place as the Transfiguration teacher." There was a polite applause, which Artemis as good as ignored.

Students were a bit surprised by how young Artemis Fowl was. His name also amused them – giggles of 'Professor Foul' were already rippling through the students. Albus was also surprised: He'd already met Artemis while getting new robes. _Wow, talk about a small world,_ thought Albus.

After the school song, which shocked and offended Artemis, the feast began.

The food was wonderful – Artemis made a mental note to go down to the kitchens sometime and congratulate the House Elves for appeasing him. But all the noise the students made with their incoherent babble made it impossible for Artemis to truly enjoy it.

"Excuse me," Artemis said, "I think I will eat in my office." Surely the noise could not disturb him there?

* * *

Albus was oddly eager for his first lesson with Artemis. Surely, if McGonagall were to hire him at his age, he had to be a spectacular wizard? Right?

Albus nearly squirmed in his seat as he waited for Artemis to enter the classroom. Scorpius Malfoy, who sat to his left, gave him a queer glance. "What has you so excited?" he asked.

"Nothing," fibbed Albus.

The doors swung open and Artemis Fowl strode in, his cloak billowing. Albus didn't understand how one could enter a room so dramatically. He didn't think anyone else in the world would ever bother with such an entrance. Then again, he'd never known Severus Snape.

"Good morning, class," Artemis said as he sat behind his own desk in the front of the room. "I am Professor Artemis Fowl the second. If I hear anyone call me anything – anything at all – other than 'Professor Fowl', they shall lose points."

Albus wondered why he had been looking forward to this particular class.

"Today, we shall have a quick review to see how much you managed to forget over the summer," Artemis – oh no – _Professor Fowl_ said as he drummed his fingers against the his desk, seemingly without any pattern. "If anyone gets anything below an O on this review, they shall meet me here after supper for remediation. Understand?"

There were a few mumbled 'yes's in the class. Artemis sighed. "That will have to do. Now then..." Artemis waved his wand and copies of the 'quick' review flew onto all the desks. Albus looked it over. It was over fifty questions long.

"This is ridiculous!" blurted Scorpius.

Artemis fixed him with an icy stare. "You will answer all the questions in the given time – twenty minutes – and read chapter one of your new Transfiguration textbook until class is dismissed. If you have any objections, I will be more than happy to deduct points and give you detention until Christmas. Begin."

Hippogriffs.

* * *

_Sorry for the short chapter, but I liked where this ended so... deal with it. I'll try to speed updates up, but I haven't had much writing time lately. I will (hopefully) see you soon._


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